“He’s fine, staying quite busy with the poverty thingy. You know, trying to feed the world and all. He asked how you were.”

The last part was a lie, but I thought it the polite thing to say.

The Devil smiled,

by accident of course.

“Yes, I heard about that. People aren’t getting enough to eat or something. I’m so bad at keeping up with current affairs.”

I smacked the Devil,

only a light cuff to get his attention,

and said,

“Enough.”

Not loud, but in a forcefully calm tone.

“What do you want from me, Trevor? ”

he questioned, with a hint of sincerity.

“What I’ve always wanted—”

The Devil held his breath with anticipation.

“An ending to my story.”

Trevor Davis lives near the Beach. He is currently working on post-production for a short film based on his story “The God Machine.” His first published poem appeared in the summer, 2003, issue of Taddle Creek. Last updated summer, 2006.